Three Cheers for Five Years
by Spasmplasm
Summary: Phan oneshot co written with the wonderful ishisjustphantasy (find her on tumblr) Inspired by the Mayday Parade song Three Cheers for Five Years.


It was November. Cold and dismal, the frost coated every outside surface creating a bleak and treacherous landscape that threatened broken limbs from icy falls. The people who walked the streets did so hurriedly and with their collars turned up against the bitter air. The sharp, biting atmosphere promised a glacial winter.

One young man hurried down the street, his hands jammed into his pockets, his brow furrowed as though deep in thought. It was already turning dark as he rounded the corner and pushed his key into the lock of his apartment.

"Phil!" He yelled as he stuck his head into the door. "You ready?"

"One more minute!" Came the faint reply.

He sighed and leant against the doorframe. He'd told Phil that they needed to be ready for half past six, but of course, Phil never listened.

He heard a door slam and Phil appeared at the top of the stairs.

"How do I look?" He asked. "Dan?"

"You look great." Dan allowed himself a small smile. "Seriously."

Phil hopped down the stairs and kissed Dan lightly on the cheek. "Happy fireworks day," He said. "But, more importantly…happy anniversary!" He spread his arms out wide. "Five years, Dan! Can you believe it?"

Dan chuckled. "It's gone so fast."

Phil nodded. "It seems like I met you only last week, and I'm still the guy who had such a big crush on you that he spilled that drink all over himself when you walked in the room."

Dan laughed at the memory. "But here I am," he said. "Despite your frankly pitiful attempts to woo me."

Phil smiled brightly. "And you're perfect."

Dan blushed. "Come on," he said. "We're going to be late if we don't grab a taxi soon."

They stepped out into the night air hand in hand, closing the door behind them with a snap.

Twenty minutes later, they were stood outside a large London house with dark green topiary bushes lining the front path. Phil whistled as he looked around him. "This is where your friends live?"

Dan shrugged. "They have a lot of money."

"A lot of money," Phil agreed as he reached out and hit the ornate brass knocker against the door three times.

Almost immediately, the door swung open and they were greeted with a tall, blonde haired man. "Dan!" He boomed, grabbing his hand. "Great to see you! And this must be Phil."

"Yeah, hi!" Phil smiled.

The man shook his hand before standing aside to let him into the hall.

"I'm Sean," He said. "Good to meet you. There's drinks in the kitchen and the fireworks start in fifteen minutes. You can leave your coats here." He pointed to a small room leading off of the hall. "See you guys in a minute!"

Dan smiled as Sean strode away down the hall. "Haven't seen him for years," He said, shaking his head slightly. "But he's still the same guy. You go get drinks, Phil, I'll hang up the coats."

"Sure." Phil shrugged off his coat and handed it to Dan. "See you in a minute."

"Yeah, see you." Dan offered a small smile, but the second Phil turned his back on him, it was gone. And the second Phil was out of sight, Dan buried his head deep in his hands.

He knew he should tell Phil. He knew they should talk. He just didn't know how. Honesty had always been everything in their relationship, but right now when it was most crucial, Dan didn't know if he could find the courage to keep to that.

He took a deep breath in. Come on Dan. You can do this.

Slowly, he lifted his head and stepped forwards. Phil, he thought. I'm so sorry.

He found Phil in the kitchen holding two bottles of beer. "Phil-"

"I got you a beer, is that ok? I didn't know what you wanted."

"Yeah, Phil, that's great. But please, we need to talk-"

"One minute Dan, I was talking to someone. Dan, meet James. James, this is Dan."

A man with dark, spiky hair offered Dan his hand. "Good to meet you."

"And you," Dan replied, but ignored the hand and turned back to Phil. "I'm serious Phil-"

"Dan! I'll be there in a second!"

Fuming, Dan grabbed his beer and headed out into the garden. It wasn't late but the night was pitch black. A good night for fireworks, Dan thought. A night for celebration.

But he wasn't going to be celebrating tonight.

Why did he have to ruin everything?

He must have been stood there for longer than it felt, because when he turned around he was no longer alone; around about twenty people had spilled out into the garden, drinks clutched in their gloved hands. It must be time for the fireworks.

Shit.

This wasn't meant to have happened. He needed to talk to Phil now. He hadn't meant for this to spill on, he just wanted it over. Phil was going to find out one day, and he'd rather it was sooner than later.

He was just about to turn back to the house when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Dan!"

Dan swallowed hard. It was now or never.

"Phil. We need to talk."

Phil frowned. "Sure, Dan, What's going on?"

Dan took his boyfriend by the hand and led him out of the crowd. "I'd rather talk somewhere private."

They walked slowly. Each footstep seemed to take forever to Dan, each crunch of his boot on the frosty ground as loud as a shot, each hitching breath as forced as the love that had brought him here.

They stopped at a small gathering of trees a short distance away from the party. By now Dan's breath was coming out in short, sharp gasps. He wasn't sure he'd been in such a state of dread before in his life.

"Phil-" He began. His voice cracked and he broke off. " Phil. I…I did something. I'm sorry, Phil, believe me-"

"Dan." Phil's voice was calm and measured. "Whatever, it is, we can work through it. Together."

Dan looked up, tears in his eyes. "That's just the thing. Phil, I-I'm not sure I want to."

"What?"

The previously cool, calm voice Phil had spoken with had transformed within a second. His eyes were wide. Dan shuffled from foot to foot, lowering his gaze once more to the floor. He opened his mouth to speak but the words caught in his throat and all that came out was a strange choking noise.

He tried again.

"I know that you want me to want you, I want to. I swear it. It's just..."

Dan dragged his eyes slowly upwards to meet Phil's. He took a shallow breath.

"I'm in love, Phil. Just not with you. Not anymore."

The words left his mouth in a rush but the last syllables were drowned out by the scream of a rocket as it shot into the sky. Coloured light illuminated Phil's pallid face with a flash, the first suggestions of tears glinting in the corners of each eye - too shocked to fall. But gravity won out and the first droplet slipped, slowly at first, then splashing down onto his cheeks in a torrent of bewilderment and pain. The explosion shook the air around Dan's head, and he turned his glistening cheek to the sky to gaze.

Fireworks.

Dan remembered.

Dan remembered the first kiss, on a cold, November night. Under the fireworks.

Dan remembered Phil's childlike glee as he'd stared up at the sky. The shining of his eyes, the puckered grin. The smooth, pink crescents of his lips.

Dan remembered the feel of Phil's chin under his fingertips as he'd lifted his face to kiss him. Blue eyes wide with surprise, slipping slowly shut as he'd fallen into the kiss. Just as easily as Dan had fallen in love.

Day after day, moment after moment, each kiss sweeter than the last. Dan remembers. But instead of love, all he can feel is a dull ache in the pit of his stomach. Instead of adoration, Dan looks upon Phil's face with a pain so acute he wishes he could rip and tear at his own skin. All his fault.

Phil wasn't even trying to speak, he was just staring. That was what hurt the most. He wanted Phil to hit him, to yell and scream and hate him and tell him how terrible he was. How horrible, how worthless, how vile and useless and despicable and lower than dirt he was. But he just stared, his eyes wide with betrayal.

Dan wanted to hit him.

But instead, he stood under the fireworks and remembered.

Four years ago. sitting by the edge of the bonfire, the warmth radiating through their bodies as they shared a toasted marshmallow. Phil's head on his shoulder warmer even than the fire. They'd talked about the future then, the endless possibilities. The infinity that stretched before them. It seemed almost humorous now, the naivety of them both. The innocence.

The idea that two people can love each other unconditionally and forever without ever hurting one another, without making mistakes, without ever getting bored of stability. Dan wanted to laugh, but it hurt too much.

Three years ago. The bonfire at the beach, the wild party, the drink, the dancing, the celebrations.

"Three cheers!" They'd screamed as they raised their glasses to the moon.

That had been the night that Dan had first met him. The boy that danced on the edge of the fire. The boy that was everything Phil wasn't.

Where Phil was kind and sweet, he was wicked and sharp. Where Phil was innocent he was cynical. He was mature and experienced and always one step ahead of everyone else. When Phil had wanted to curl up and cuddle he had danced all night, drinking till he flew and kissing all the girls and all the guys and leaving them so breathless. He was wild. He was dark and mysterious, he was charming and vicious.

Where Phil was gentle, he was dangerous. And he set Dan's blood on fire.

Two years ago. He had returned, only this time he had a name. This time he was closer, reachable, tangible - all Dan had to do was reach out and-

That had been the first time Dan cheated on Phil. It had been so easy yet so deliciously dangerous. Phil, ever the lightweight, had fallen asleep on the sofa with a bottle of malibu and a kiss. Dan had slipped upstairs, and he had been waiting with a grin on his face.

The guilt had stayed with Dan all year, but the taste of the thrill never left his lips.

Last year. Three hundred and sixty five days ago, yet it seemed less than a month.

PJ, the ever glamorous host of this year's party, didn't like him. He'd tasted the danger in an instant and wanted him out of his house. So he'd told Dan with a murmur to get rid of the gatecrasher with the wandering hands and sparkling eyes. And of course, Dan had obliged. Only this time he'd left his number on the stranger's arm. This time, there was no need for whispered goodbyes. They would see each other again, and Dan knew it. The stranger was no longer a stranger to him, but he had lost none of the allure that he'd had when Dan had first seen him: his lean body twisting round and round the flickering flames as he hopped and spun to the beat of the music. Instead he was a new person to get to know, a whole world to explore. He was excitingly new, unfamiliar, unique. He was different.

That night, when Dan's phone buzzed, he untangled himself from the sheets and blankets on Phil's bed and left his boyfriend sleeping. When he replied and the phone buzzed again, he picked it up with eager hands and a hammering heart. And when Phil finally awoke, abandoned and alone, he found Dan asleep on the couch, his mobile phone clutched tightly to his chest.

A flash. The boom of the firework echoed around the neighbourhood and brought Dan back to reality. He blinked sharply, as though attempting to push those memories out of his mind. Because memories they were, and that was what they had to be. He knew he was never going back.

Swallowing hard, he dragged his eyes back up to meet Phil's. Oh, but those aquamarine eyes, like swimming pools. Only now the water was spilling out of the gold-flecked iris and down, down, down.

"It's him, isn't it." Phil's voice was cracking, but he was attempting to maintain the little composure he had left. "The one from last year, and the year before. It's him."

It wasn't a question so much as a statement.

"I'm sorry, Phil-"

But Phil shook his head. "I should have known."

"No, Phil, how could you-"

Phil shook his head fervently. "No, you don't understand. I did know, Dan. I knew. But when it comes to it, it's very difficult to let yourself believe it, you know? To admit to yourself that maybe, just maybe, the person who you love the most in the world doesn't love you back. So I didn't. I left it alone. I was stupid and pathetic. I thought that maybe it would leave. But you know what, Dan? Not once did I ever think I was wrong. I didn't ever think to myself, he's Dan. He loves you, he wouldn't do that. Because, deep down, I knew it wasn't true. And really, I think that says all that needs to be said about us. Don't you?"

Dan drew in a shaky breath. His head was swimming, his heart hammering. But somehow, he managed to squeeze out one word. "No."

Phil raised his eyebrows. "Go on then," he hissed. "Tell me, what have I missed?"

Dan closed his eyes, allowing the glistening tears that had been building up in his eyes to flow freely down his face. "Everything," he choked. "Phil, you've missed everything. Listen. I know I've made mistakes. I know I shouldn't be the one to make the calls on how this relationship is remembered. You owe me nothing. But I think we can do so much better than that, Phil. We can remember ourselves for more than that. Remember, Phil. Remember everything we've done together. We went to Jamaica, we went to France. Hell, we went to New York. We met Fall Out Boy and Paramore. We danced under the stars and the fireworks on that second year. We moved to London and built a whole new life for ourselves, I know I couldn't have done that on my own. We've seen Muse and My Chemical Romance. We've been to Vidcon, Playlist, Summer in the City. We've got a radio show, Phil. We've won awards. We've grown so much - together, none of this changes that. You and me, we were incredible. We've done so many amazing things. Please, please don't forget them. Because I know I won't."

Phil gazed at Dan, his eyes unblinking. The tears that fell steadily down onto his cheeks reflected the colours of the fireworks still exploding over their heads.

"We were pretty good." He agreed quietly. "And we could have been incredible. But now we're over. Goodbye, Dan."

He turned and walked slowly away, his dark hair disappearing into the trees as shadows fell around his shoulders.

Silence fell for a moment. In the distance Dan could hear people shouting and cheering for the next box of fireworks, but he didn't move. His shoulders were slumped, his dark eyes focused on the retreating figure.

Above his head, a cerulean firework exploded in a flash of brilliant light. As Phil slipped out of his life, the last flecks of blue faded silently into the night sky.


End file.
